What Partners Do
by WhyAye
Summary: This assumes/requires 2 earlier stories, What is Needed and Shattered, took place. If the idea of Lewis doing the dirty deed makes you queasy, skip this, at least Ch 1. M for Ch 1, then more T except for some strong language. No intent to be political!
1. Saturday

Detective Sergeant James Hathaway was having a wonderful dream. He was being stroked and caressed by a woman he cared for very much. She started kissing him: first on the mouth, then the chin, then his chest, and as she continued to move down his body, he realized he was awake and it was not a dream. He smiled languidly. An _excellent_ way to start the weekend.

* * *

Some distance away, Detective Inspector Robert Lewis was having a similar dream. He was in bed with his wife, Valerie, and she was perched on top of his belly, teasing him by seeing how long he could just lie still. He finally could hold back no longer and had just started slowly rocking his hips when the persistent beeping of the rubbish truck cruelly drew him out of the dream. And it was, of course, only a dream, as always. Val had died years ago, and the sorrow that washed over him upon awakening dissolved his ardor into a cold and rather painful knot in his groin.

In a gloomy funk, he got up, went to the kitchen, and put the kettle on. He started to get the teapot ready, but was moving without any enthusiasm, and eventually he shut off the fire under the kettle and with resignation put the pot aside. Today would have been Val's birthday. This annual reminder of his loss was always difficult for him. Moody and frustrated, he sat just staring for a while. He soon realized he was staring at the half-empty bottle of brandy on the counter, and it was looking good. He roused himself from his dark reverie, glancing at the clock and seeing it was not even eight o'clock yet. He had to get out of the house.

He got dressed in jeans, a tee shirt, and a comfy chambray shirt over that, and put on his trainers. He started walking briskly, heading in the direction of the canal. A long walk on the towpath would do him a world of good, he decided. But part of him longed for the quiet fog the brandy promised, and soon he was wandering aimlessly, not heading for the canal at all. In fact, although he wasn't sure how he had gotten there, he found himself on the street where his sergeant lived.

_Maybe James could help_, he thought. But as he headed toward the house, he changed his mind. It was early, too early to be calling on people, and he didn't want to dump his problems on James. And yet when he started to turn around, he recognized his mood wasn't any better than when he left home. The brandy would get him, he knew. Last time that happened, James made it very clear that Lewis had wrongly refused to seek the help of his friends. Lewis marshaled up his determination, went up the steps, and knocked on the door.

After half a minute, the door opened, and Hathaway stood there, wearing only grey sweatpants.

"Sir." He looked a bit puzzled to see his boss on the step at this hour on a Saturday.

"Oh, sorry, Hathaway. Did I wake you?"

"Uh, no, I was just . . . er, moving a bit slowly this morning." He cocked his head a bit. "What's up?"

Lewis took a deep breath. "I was just taking a walk and . . . well, it's Val's birthday today, y'know? I'm trying to, uh . . . stay vertical for the better part of the day." He added more quietly, "I think I might need some help with that."

Hathaway furrowed his brow. He knew it was extremely difficult for the older man to admit he could use help, let alone for him to actively seek it. He couldn't very well discourage Lewis from reaching out when he needed to. But this was not the most convenient time for him. He rubbed his nose and glanced over his shoulder.

Lewis caught the gesture and made the connection. "Aw, look, you're busy, aren't you? I'll just keep going with me walk then. Maybe I'll stop by Hobson's place." From the sudden, hot twinge he felt at the mention of her name, it occurred to Lewis that Laura Hobson might be better suited to take care of one cause of his bad mood that morning.

But James did not want to send Lewis away if he needed a friend. "No, no, it's fine. Look, give me a second to get dressed and I'll walk with you." He glanced up at the blue sky. "Nice morning."

"Okay, great." Lewis exhaled in relief and stepped inside the foyer as James retreated to the bedroom to get dressed, closing the door behind him. Lewis contemplated the door from where he stood. _I wonder if he has something he needs to finish in there_. He was surprised at feeling rather envious.

An instant later, Lewis heard a different door, and looked up to see a woman come out of the bathroom. She was wearing the black dress shirt Hathaway had worn to work the day before. And, from what Lewis could see, nothing else. Half a beat later, he recognized her.

"Laura!" His mouth dropped open. She looked _good_. His frustrated hormones flared, then flooded his system. The unfinished business of the morning rushed him, and his usually robust resistance failed completely, battered by his depression and thwarted release. In his fragile emotional state, he could do nothing but surrender to the primitive urge that overwhelmed him. _Her. Now_.

Looking a little embarrassed, she waved her fingers at him in greeting. He motioned her over. As she got closer, what was on his mind became increasingly obvious. She looked up at him, one eyebrow raised.

His brain was no longer in control. "I've had a bit of a frustrating morning." His voice was hoarse. "Actually, I was thinking of coming to see you, only I ended up here somehow." He glanced down, self-conscious of his visible need. "I really need you, Laura. Is there someplace we can . . . y'know?"

She raised her other eyebrow.

"It's been a bad day for me, okay? Got woken up from a . . . very nice dream, if you know what I mean. At just the wrong time. It was right _painful_. And the sun's barely up and I'm already trying to avoid the call of the brandy bottle. And then you, that shirt . . . . Makes it hurt even more."

She had helped him out like this before when his need was more than he could bear. And she had promised she would help him again if it came to that. So she couldn't very well say no at this point. She began to rapidly unfasten his jeans.

"What, right here?"

"Well, how far away do you think you're going to get with that?" She glanced down.

"But James is just—" he caught his breath as she took hold of him. Then breathing harder, he pushed her back against the wall, moved her hands away, and after a moment's hesitation pressed his body into hers. She felt so good. No way he could turn back now. This would be quick.

* * *

James emerged from the bedroom, heading for the bathroom so he could put in his contacts. His attention was caught by sudden movement in the foyer. He squinted in that direction, and saw Laura leaning against the wall. Lewis, his back toward James, was backing away from her. Hathaway couldn't help wondering if he had interrupted something.

He popped in his contacts and strode over to the foyer as Laura headed into the bedroom. Lewis's expression was difficult to decipher.

"Sorry, mate, I didn't expect to see her here." There was a bit of an awkward pause. He didn't think James had seen anything. Still, he'd like to be sure. "You ready to walk or . . ."

"Sure, let's go. I'll just tell Laura we're off." Hathaway entered the bedroom without knocking. He stopped short just inside the door. Laura was using a tissue to wipe up the viscous fluid dribbling down her legs. He just stared and she looked up, startled. No, he hadn't interrupted anything. _They had already finished_.

He turned on his heel and practically bolted from the house, Lewis quickly following. Hathaway needed to buy time to figure out how to react to the affront. For now, he would act as if he hadn't seen. He was not good at confrontations.

They walked in silence for a while. When James lit his second cigarette, Lewis said, "I'm really sorry to interrupt your morning, James. I didn't know you were . . . y'know, seeing her, like." When James didn't answer, he continued. "It hadn't even occurred to me you might have someone over." He grimaced a little. "Guess I should have known."

Hathaway said nothing, despite Lewis's obvious invitation to respond. Finally, Lewis continued, "So are you two serious, like? Not that it's my business. Only, I've . . . y'know, called her once or twice, but I won't if . . . well, y'know. She never said anything." _You haven't either, but it wouldn't be the first time for that_, he concluded in his head. Lewis always felt awkward talking about other people's personal lives, and he was more than a little embarrassed about losing control over his own biology.

He didn't catch the bit of derision in Hathaway's snorted exhale. James knew he was not the only man in Laura's life. But Lewis's apparent show of respect for whatever relationship James had with Laura, just after having taken advantage of the opportunity for a quick round with her, seemed uncharacteristically hypocritical.

Hathaway realized that the longer they walked, the more angry he was getting. He and Laura weren't serious in the sense of getting together very often, but when they did, the electricity was fantastic. He found himself becoming resentful of Lewis for cutting in on him like that. This walk had to end, now. He suddenly stopped short.

"Sir, I have to get back. There's something I've just now remembered." Lewis stopped and looked curious, but said nothing.

Remembering what brought him here in the first place, James added grudgingly, "You'll be okay, Sir?"

"Aw, yeah, I'm better now." Then he took a serious tone. "Thanks. Yeah, I'll be okay. See you Monday." He turned and continued up the road.

Hathaway stared after him a second, confused. Lewis seemed so above-board, as usual. Either he thought nothing of what had happened in Hathaway's foyer, or Hathaway was reading him completely wrong. Lewis had never been a good liar.

James stewed all the way back. Laura was still there, dressed now. She sensed his foul mood. "James, Robbie just—"

"Oh, it's 'Robbie' now? Look, Laura, I know what happened. I'm not of a mind to talk about this, okay? I think you better go. If I'm ready to discuss anything, I'll call you."

"It's not what you think, James."

"Please just go!"

Shaking her head, she collected her bag and went out the door.

James sat on his sofa, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor, trying to explain to himself why it bothered him so much. Lewis had as much a right to be seeing Laura as anyone. But it wasn't that so much as the false air of virtue the older man had. As if he never thought about women in that way, ever. It was all a façade, apparently. He could be as smutty as anyone: a quick poke, standing up, fully clothed, chance of being caught and all that.

When Lewis had come to the door, he seemed depressed and gloomy, about as far from randy as one could get. But despite that, he was able to get it up and in and out in record time, the horny bastard. Totally out of keeping with the chivalrous image Lewis cultivated. Looked like he was a good liar after all.

That was why he was so angry, James realized. He had respected the man, admiring Lewis's innate ability to do what was right. An honorable, honest man. James had striven to be like him in that way. Well, not any more.

* * *

Lewis continued his walk until he reached a small churchyard by the river. He went directly to one particular headstone, white marble shining in the sun.

"Happy Birthday, Pet." He knelt by the stone, feeling a bit guilty about coming empty-handed. _I'll bring flowers when I come back later. Didn't expect to end up here this morning. Day started out a bit rough. I guess you know that_. He could almost hear her soothing reassurance:

_you'll be alright, love. it's good you're going for a walk._

_Val, I'm not proud of what I did today._

_you needed that, love, just like you need to eat. i'm sorry i'm not there to take care of you. james and laura will help you whenever you ask them. laura is a good woman. and james is a good man._

_I know, Pet_. He stood up, but continued gazing at the stone. _I miss you something terrible. Every single day._

_i miss you too, love._

He swallowed hard but his eyes were dry as he looked over the green vale and the silvery river below.


	2. Sunday

Somewhere, someone was talking to him. Saying something that sounded important. Something about a body. Followed by a loud beep.

Hathaway managed to open one eye. He hated it when he fell asleep with his contacts in. God, his head was spinning. As he gradually attained an upright position, sitting on the edge of the bed, he remembered thinking at some point last night that he should put the bottle away, he'd had enough. But what happened after that was less clear.

Wobbling, he made his way to the living room where the light on his home phone was blinking. He punched the button and was informed that he was needed out at Stoneleigh Manor near Thame. A body had been found. Groaning, he swallowed some aspirin, got dressed, grabbed a bottle of water, and headed out the door. He was halfway to Thame before it occurred to him that two people he was trying to avoid would also likely be there.

Still, he was determined to make a good show of it. He eventually found the cordoned-off area a quarter mile or so inside the front gate. Dr. Hobson and her crew were crawling all over the site, and Lewis was leaning against the fender of his car, watching them.

Hathaway parked, took a long drink of water, and approached. "What do we have?"

Lewis looked around. "Ah, good, you're here." He took a second look. "You alright?"

Hathaway just waved off the question impatiently. "Well?"

"Haven't gotten the report yet. Somebody saw the body and phoned it in anonymously. Thing is, you can't see this from the road. Clear view from the house, though." He gestured that way. "But the owners are out of town. The house is supposed to be empty."

Hobson approached, looking intently from one man to the other as if she were trying to read the weather. "Woman, late thirties, early forties. Strangled, probably with bare hands. Strong hands, her windpipe is pretty well crushed. And she's been beaten rather badly, not all of it recent. Would you like to have a look?"

They both followed the doctor over to the body. The victim looked like a broken thing; she was small, and mottled bruises showed on her face and arms.

Hathaway stood off to one side, hands held together in front of him, head bowed.

Lewis took a closer look, holding his hands up to her neck to measure the size of the marks there compared to his own hands.

"Any identification?"

"There was nothing on her."

"Dumped here, most likely?"

"Very good, Inspector. Yes, I'd say so. There are fresh bruises on her arms, looks like she may have put up quite a struggle. But before we walked all over the area, there were no signs that anything like that took place here. And the ground here is soft—" she kicked at the loose dirt "—but there's nothing like this on her shoes. Tire tracks over there, but they usually don't tell us much unless we have something to compare." She had waved at the space between the manor drive and their location.

Lewis turned to Hathaway. "Let's go take a look at the house."

Hathaway said nothing in response, but followed along, keeping a few steps behind Lewis. The drive was quite long, and the rolling lawn hid the body from view when they were just a short distance away.

They stood at different locations in front of the house until they found a spot that afforded a clear view of the SOCOs working the area.

"Of course, if someone were up on the first floor, they could see from almost anywhere, probably." He studied Hathaway as he spoke. "You're awfully quiet this morning, Sergeant."

"Not awake yet, Sir."

Lewis studied him a moment longer, then turned to peer into the house. "Hey! Look at that! This house is supposed to be unoccupied, but there's a teapot, jam jar, and other stuff on the table."

Hathaway joined him at the window. They were looking into what appeared to be a breakfast nook of some sort, and indeed, it looked recently used. A person sitting there would hardly miss the body even at that distance.

Lewis headed for the nearest door, but it was locked. He then went on to find another, and then another. The third door opened at his touch. He turned to Hathaway, his eyebrows raised. Hathaway just nodded toward the door. _After you_.

Lewis called out several times, but there was no answer. They went in and found their way to the breakfast nook, Lewis hallooing every now and then. Nothing appeared disturbed in the house until they reached the kitchen. There they found empty cans and other rubbish, and dishes drying in a rack. _But not yet fully dry_.

They poked around a bit more. Finally, satisfied they had found all there was to find for now, and not comfortable with the idea of intruding further, they went out and headed back down to the secured area.

"I think we better contact the owners before we send SOCOs in there. Sometimes these manor house types don't take it well if coppers are scouring through their digs."

Hathaway could not resist. ""Manor house types,' Sir?"

"You know. The landed gentry? Somebody like me might break something in there."

He didn't see Hathaway roll his eyes behind his back.

Hobson approached them. "I'm ready to move her if that's okay. Post-mortem report at three."

"We'll see you then," Lewis said.

He had the unlocked door secured, and got reports from any officers with information. "I'll see you back at the office, Hathaway?"

James just nodded.

* * *

Soon after they returned, Chief Superintendent Jean Innocent knocked on their door and came in without invitation.

"What is going on at Stoneleigh Manor? Have you contacted Lord Chilton yet?"

"Ma'am?"

"Lord Chilton, the owner."

"I was just trying to find out how to do that. There was no one there on the grounds at all. It was a bit weird, actually."

"I'll contact them myself. What can you tell me about the case?"

Lewis told her what they knew, including finding evidence that someone had been using the house's kitchen. "I didn't want to go too far into the house without permission."

"A very wise decision, Lewis. You _are_ learning how to handle matters with discretion and delicacy, aren't you?"

Innocent left to make the call. Hathaway was staring absently at Lewis. The events of Saturday put everything he did in a different, and not very flattering, light. Lewis wasn't badmouthing the "landed gentry" when Innocent was in the room, he noticed.

Lewis was oblivious to Hathaway's study, working on completing the reports from the morning.

After a short time, the Chief Superintendent returned. "Lord and Lady Chilton would like you to complete your investigation of their house before they return. They are making arrangements and plan to be back late tonight. You have their permission to examine the areas where someone has obviously been. The butler will be at the main house at all times to escort you through. He will identify for you the areas that have been disturbed. And Lewis?"

"Yes, Ma'am?"

"Be very careful there. They have many valuable antiques and irreplaceable furniture."

"Yes, Ma'am." It was only after she left that he allowed the resentment to show in his eyes. But he did not say anything to Hathaway.

"Guess we'd better get back over there. Come on."

They were done at the house before three. The butler had indicated one bedroom that appeared slept in. Nothing was missing and nothing was there that did not belong. Whoever had stayed there had taken his own belongings with him. SOCOs could not lift any fingerprints and there were no unwashed glasses or other possible sources of DNA.

With very little to show for their efforts, they packed up and headed for Hobson's lab.

As always, she was very professional in her presentation.

"Caucasian female, around thirty-eight to forty years old. Has given birth at least once. Death was caused by strangulation using bare hands, her windpipe virtually crushed. There is considerable bruising all over her body ranging from as recent as last night to several weeks old. Had vigorous but not necessarily violent sexual intercourse within the last twelve hours. But he either withdrew or used a condom; there's no vaginal sample for DNA analysis. We'll do what we can with hairs and fibers but those, of course, take longer." By the end of her monologue, she was studying Hathaway, trying to gauge his mood.

Lewis looked unhappy. "Her husband? Boyfriend?"

"In all likelihood. Some of the bruises are hand-shaped: here . . . and here, for example."

Lewis shook his head in disgust.

"No identification at all?"

"Nothing. We can run dental records, of course. That will take a while."

He took her report and went out the door. Hathaway turned to follow, but Laura put her hand on his arm, looking at him with deep concern. Without a word he shook her hand off and strode out of the room.

Lewis was waiting for him to catch up. "What are we supposed to go on, here? She could be anyone. Nah, let's call it a day for now. Maybe there will be more evidence in the morning if we just leave it alone tonight."

"If you say so, Sir."


	3. Monday

Monday morning found Hathaway at his desk, early as usual. Very soon after he had logged in to his computer and settled down with a cup of coffee, Chief Superintendent Jean Innocent stuck her head in the doorway.

"Lewis is where?"

"A bit early for him, Ma'am."

"Well, when he manages to get here, I'd like the two of you to head over to Stoneleigh Manor. Lord and Lady Chilton returned from Mauritius early this morning. File's here—" she handed him a folder that was surprisingly thick for being yesterday's case.

He raised his eyes questioningly.

"All this?"

She frowned at him. "The break-in seems to be part of a pattern. The file includes several similar incidents in the area. They never came to our attention because the amount of damage is so small. But in this case, Lady Chilton is quite frightened at the idea of a stranger living in her house. And she's a personal friend of mine."

_So don't cock this up_ was the obvious message.

When Lewis arrived, Hathaway told him about their assignment and the two headed out, Lewis rolling his eyes and James driving. Although he wasn't yet ready to discuss what was really bothering him, Hathaway felt obligated to check on his boss's mental state.

"Did you do alright this weekend, then?"

"Yeah, I did. Spent a lot of time outside. Tried me hand at a little cooking. Fixed a rather nice bit of salmon." He paused while Hathaway navigated a roundabout. "Thanks again for your help in getting us sorted Saturday morning."

Hathaway gave a quick nod of acknowledgement. The man had nerve, acting as if nothing had happened when James had practically been able to smell it. How thick did Lewis think he was, anyway?

They arrived at the gates of Stoneleigh Manor and motored smoothly up the long drive. Unlike the day before, Hathaway could now appreciate how beautiful the house was in the morning light, an elegant, red-brick, Tudor mansion, not as ostentatious as some of the Victorian houses in the area. At least, not on the outside.

On the inside, the ornate furniture and Italianate murals on the walls gave the house an air of stuffy formality. The maid answering the door escorted them to the drawing room. Hathaway had to smile to himself when he noticed that the farther they got into the great house, the more uncomfortable Lewis became.

After the maid announced them to the Lord and Lady, Lewis took the lead. "Good morning, your Ladyship, your Lordship." They each took his extended hand. "I know we have our basic information from yesterday, but I was wondering if you could add anything to it? Any idea of who might have done this or why?"

"Oh, dear," Lady Chilton began, "the whole thing is so dreadful I can't bear to think about it at all, really."

"Murders are always dreadful, m'Lady." Lewis was on his best behavior.

She looked blank a moment. "Oh, _that_ horrible business. Well, I don't see what the comeuppance of some little tart has to do with us. They could have left her someplace less . . . conspicuous, I suppose. No, Inspector, I was referring to the dreadful intruder in our home. I don't feel safe anymore."

Hathaway stepped in. "You surely had a security service engaged while you were gone?"

Lord Chilton assured him, "But of course. We engage Belton Security on a permanent basis, not just when we are away. They come highly recommended."

Lewis asked, "They didn't report ever seeing . . . anything?"

But Lord Chilton addressed his answer to Hathaway. "They never saw anything amiss."

Lewis queried further. "Do they have someone here all the time, or does someone come around and check on a regular basis, or what?"

"They come 'round frequently, sometimes getting out and checking doors and such on foot and sometimes just driving through the estate." Once again, this was directed to James.

In fact, for the rest of the conversation, both Lord and Lady Chilton directed their statements to Hathaway. As the younger man expected, by the time the two men left, Lewis was quite prickly and out of sorts.

"The bloke could still be in there, kipping in the twenty-fifth bedroom, and who'd know? Bloody house is big enough for them to let out a room or two without feeling the crowd."

Hathaway said nothing and let Lewis wage the one-man class war he seemed to be fighting all the time.

"What are they out? A couple of pounds' worth of food that probably would have been off by the time they returned from . . . where was it? Monaco?"

"Mauritius, Sir."

"Oh, and please remove the dead woman from the lawn, she doesn't set off the roses very well."

Lewis fumed in silence for a while.

"Did you notice how they never spoke to me, like I was some servant waiting for an order?"

"Yes, I did notice that, Sir. Maybe they just couldn't understand your accent."

Lewis glowered. "Is that supposed to be funny? 'Cos I'm not laughing just now."

"Sorry, Sir."

"That's just it, though, isn't it? No posh accent, off-the-rack suit—I might as well be the delivery boy. What is it with these bloody posh families?"

They continued the drive in silence. Hathaway pondered Lewis's predictable ranting against the rich. It was never prefaced with "present company excepted," or otherwise qualified in any way. One of these days, Hathaway was going to call him on it. So now there were two confrontations he was avoiding.

Hathaway spent the rest of the day poring over the break-in files, checking things online, and making assignments to the constables on the case. In all cases, the owners had been away for an extended period, nothing less than a month. At least there was something to do, unlike the murder which provided them no leads at all.

By the end of the day, they had a map of all the reported break-ins, identifying the dates of both the reports and the times the owners were away. Although there were gaps in time, there were no overlaps. It looked as if they were dealing with a single person, sequentially breaking into house after house, staying in each as long as he dared.

Hathaway noticed that Lewis had not participated much in the afternoon's work. Instead, he disappeared for lunch and then just sat at his desk for the rest of the time, making notes and staring off into space with the expression he usually bore when he was thinking.

"Thinking like Morse again, Sir?"

"Trying to. Who would do something like this?"

"The sequential break-ins? Well, we should know soon. We're having all the empties in the dustbin tested for DNA."

Lewis looked uninterested in the mundane, fact-checking, nit-picking work Hathaway was overseeing. Funny thing was, from what Hathaway understood, when Lewis was bagman for Morse it was the same way, only then Lewis was the one dedicated to the slow-but-steady method of detective work.

Two hours later, James looked up with considerable energy. "Sir?"

He had Lewis's immediate attention.

"Sir, all the houses on the list used the same security agency: Belton."

"Well, maybe they're the only outfit worth having."

"I'll check that, but I think this is more than coincidence."

"Well, Lord Chilton said they had been 'recommended' to him. These blokes probably all get together at the club or the polo match or wherever and recommend contractors and the like to each other. You'd probably find they all hire the same plumber, too."

At the end of the day, neither the slow-but-steady thinker nor the think-like-Morse advocate was any closer to the answer.


	4. Tuesday

By lunchtime Tuesday, Hathaway and his team of constables had made some progress. Forensics had matched the DNA on some of the beer bottles from the rubbish to six names they already had on file: Will Fairington, Dan Carter, Joe Billingsgate, Aaron Horton, Ian Jacobson, and Robert Walling. These coincided with the list of ten day-laborers the gardener identified as having been hired to help dig a pond while the Lord and Lady were away. The other four members of the gang, Tom Radcliff, Hugh Taylor, Evan Dufton, and Nate Fuller, had no records on file. Unfortunately, they were all paid cash and there was no record of their current addresses.

James also had a list of the over one hundred employees of Belton Security, including the dozens who were privy to the schedule of houses that would be vacant for some time. It was a veritable haystack of evidence.

And again, Lewis did not seem to have an interest in it. He looked over the six names from forensics and thought a moment.

"I'm off to the Grapevine. Keep up the progress."

Hathaway shook his head imperceptibly. Lewis didn't offer him a pint or anything. What was going on in his head? Why wouldn't he want James along?

Then he had a thought. After waiting fifteen minutes, he phoned Hobson. There was no answer, and the call went to her voice mail.

"Laura, I need to see you tonight. Eight o'clock? Yours or mine, doesn't matter to me."

No answer, that was unusual for her. Was it just coincidence they were both unavailable at the same time? The cold lump of a thought began to grow in his mind. It was starting to look like Lewis was getting in some serious time with her, right under Hathaway's nose. And all the while acting like there was nothing between them.

When Lewis returned, Hathaway was still plowing through the Belton list. Lewis sat and assumed his earlier pose, staring out the window, looking thoughtful.

After a long time, he spoke. "Hathaway, you know, it doesn't help us to know whose fault this is. You're wasting your time with that security company. Figure out this bloke's next kip. Where is he _now_? Use your posh connections—who is away on holiday for at least a month?"

Hathaway just stared. _His posh connections?_ What the bloody hell was _that_ supposed to mean? And how the bloody hell was he supposed to figure out where the next stop would be, seeing as how his "posh connections" existed only in Lewis's bloody working-class head? Grudgingly, he put down the list. The answer was in there, he just knew it. He turned to his computer, and started searching for Oxford-area manor houses. What a waste of time.

He had jotted down a list of about six when his mobile rang. Hobson. He punched the button to accept as he got up and strode from the office. This call might need some privacy.

"Hi."

"I got your message. But I can't meet tonight, I already have something on. Is tomorrow night okay?"

_Damn!_ Another day of waiting to get confirmation of his suspicions. But what could he do? That is, other than actually talking to Lewis, and that was out of the question for now. He wouldn't be able to keep his head in that conversation. "Okay, fine, tomorrow then." He rung off and returned to the office.

He decided to test his theory a step further. "Sir, I've been meaning to talk to you about something. I was wondering if you'd go for a pint tonight, say, seven or eight o'clock?" He was taking a big risk. If his theory was wrong, he would be forced to have that conversation he was trying so hard to avoid.

Lewis blinked at him a moment while his brain shifted tracks from the case to what his sergeant had just said.

"Ah, no, I can't tonight, sorry. Already have plans. Tomorrow, maybe?"

Hathaway felt his heart pounding at that response. Funny it should be so identical to what Laura said. Yep, he was right. He decided to push a little.

"Plans? You? You're not going on a date, are you?"

Lewis looked away. "Never you mind, Sergeant. Once I leave here, I'm on me own time." Then, "Besides, shouldn't you be trying to make progress on this case instead of going for a drink? Innocent's special friend and all. Wouldn't do for another nice Lord and Lady to be putting up with a freeloader." The sarcasm was thick.

"The rich have a right to the protection of the law as well, Sir."

Lewis just rolled his eyes.

_That arrogant prick_. The man simply could not see that he was as prejudiced against the upper class as he accused them of being against the lower class. _And_ he'd be spending the night with Laura when it was James who needed to talk to her tonight. All of Hathaway's bottled anger, frustration, and feelings of betrayal exploded at once.

He threw the Belton list at Lewis's head. "Here—give this a quick shag, why don't you? You're the sodding expert at the two-minute tango!"

He stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind him, as Lewis gaped after him in utter astonishment. The harsh words rang in his ears.

And, to improve things, a few seconds later, the Chief Superintendent knocked on the door, opening it without waiting for an answer.

"Lewis, have you and Hathaway—"

"Ma'am!" He cut her off. "Just give us a minute to sort this out, alright? We've got no idea what's goin' on, man."

She looked at him reprovingly. "Lord and Lady Chilton—"

He cut her off again. "Just _sod them_, okay? I need to find me sergeant."

With that, he pushed past her out of the office, leaving her the one gaping in astonishment. By the time she recovered and ordered him back, he was far down the hallway, and he ignored her command without looking back.

* * *

James headed immediately for Dr. Hobson's lab and the morgue. He had to get his answer now. Find out where she'd been at lunch, what she had planned with Lewis for tonight, and what other liberties Lewis had taken with her when James's back was turned. It looked very much like the man who insisted on openness and honesty from his sergeant was holding himself to a rather different standard.

Laura was with some of her students, however, and it was nearly an hour before she was free to talk to him. Rather than calming down, James's impatience had added fuel to the fire while he waited, craving a smoke. By the time she came through the lab door, he was too angry to not get right to the point.

"I know you're fucking him but do you have to do him right in my own house?"

She frowned, irritated at his bluntness. "Who are we talking about, again?"

"Lewis. Robbie. Speed Racer, whatever you want to call him."

She looked offended. "I'm not in the habit of 'doing him,' as you so eloquently put it, James."

He snorted. "You'd have to be, for him to be done so fast. I was only out of the room two minutes."

Laura looked at him a bit defiantly. "It only took him one." Then her look softened, and he could hear the concern in her voice. "James, he had a very real, very urgent, and very _visible_, need." She added quietly, "He must have had it in the worst way, or he never would have asked. He has no one else to turn to."

She looked at him, speaking sincerely. "I'm sorry if you're offended. But you and I agreed we would do what we could for him on his bad days. Saturday was going to be rough for him. Remember last Christmas? It was going to be like that."

Hathaway did remember. Lewis had intentionally gotten drunk out of his mind, and had not told either of them of his plans. Practically delirious, he had left his house and fallen into the canal. If James hadn't happened to come along at the right time, Lewis would have been dead in minutes.

His anger began to drain. "And lunchtime today, when I had to leave a voice mail? You weren't with him?"

She furrowed her brow. "No, I was with students. Why would you think such a thing?"

"What about tonight? You're not meeting him?"

"Of course not. Student presentations night." She looked at him closely. "He and I have only gotten together once or twice before, James." Her eyes narrowed. "What, do you two have to bash antlers together or something to figure out who's the alpha male? Is this about _jealousy_?"

His face was clouded. "No, not that. It's more complicated. He just turned out to be a different man than I thought he was."

She looked confused. "Just for losing control of himself on a bad day?"

"Yes, partly that. He's always been a man in complete control of himself. And not one to cover up his misdeeds."

But more than just a residue of his anger at Lewis still remained. He had looked like a lost puppy-dog when James had answered the door. It was hard to believe the man Hathaway thought was Lewis could change his mood so fast that he didn't even have the decency to wait until he was somewhere private to get his relief. Hathaway felt like he didn't know his boss at all. Like something had been taken from him.

Laura was looking at him intently. James decided she had just done what she thought had to be done at the time. "Sorry for shouting. And for being so vulgar." He gave her a rueful smile.

"It's not like I haven't heard you use the word before, James." She smiled at him playfully. "Tomorrow night—mine? Lewis is less likely to find you there."

"I was thinking more like a pint somewhere. Not in the mood for much else."

* * *

Lewis rather quickly gave up on the idea of searching for Hathaway. He was not within sight of the station when Lewis had chased after him, and that meant he could be anywhere. Lewis decided to wait an hour before trying James's mobile. _Let him cool off a bit_.

Making sure Innocent didn't spot him, he went back to the office and sat down at his desk. He was probably in for it for the way he had snapped at the Chief Super. He had been caught so off-guard by Hathaway's outburst that he hadn't been able to consider his words or to focus on anything else. What had that been all about? Surely the case wasn't going that badly, they'd only been on it since yesterday. Was this about Saturday? Hathaway would have said something before this if he had caught them in the act, wouldn't he? But the words James had used pointed rather directly at this as the answer.

He absently stared at the Belton list on his desk where it landed after Hathaway had thrown it. The top page had gotten torn off by the force. The second page listed the thirty-seven people who had access to the calendar that showed when clients would be out of town or had otherwise requested special services. Lewis's eyes widened and froze when they reached one name halfway down the list: Ben MacInnes.

Twenty minutes later, he parked his car in front of Belton Security. He had called to make sure MacInnes was there, but did not ask to speak with him then. Now he waited as the receptionist buzzed and informed whoever answered that the police wanted a word. Maybe it was just coincidence, it couldn't be that rare of a name. But when, despite the years, he recognized the man who came out to meet him, Lewis's hopes for an easy resolution sank.

"Mack. How've you been, mate?"

The taller man was clearly surprised. "Robbie? Still a copper? After all that bollocks we went through?" His Tyneside accent was thick.

"Aye, yeah. But we're a detective now, so it's not the same bollocks."

"Detective! So, what brings you out here, man?"

Lewis spoke quietly. "Mack, I know what you're doing." Mack's shoulders sagged visibly. "C'mon, let's take a walk. I need you to tell me what's been going on."

* * *

Hathaway sat as his desk with his head in his hands. Maybe he could get Laura to talk to the man. This was ridiculous. Then the office door opened a little, and Lewis stuck his head through the narrow opening, taking the measure of Hathaway's mood. James looked up.

Lewis stayed where he was. "Just wondering if I can get in past the elephant in here."

James nodded. He didn't trust himself to speak.

Lewis opened the door wider, came in, and sat in his chair. He stared at the file on his desk for a while, then rubbed his nose and upper lip. Finally, he looked up.

"Are you still with me on this case?"

Hathaway nodded silently again.

"Good. I need to talk to you about something. Not here. Can I buy you a pint?"

Another nod.

They walked a few blocks to one of the quieter pubs nearby. Lewis stood at the bar while James chose an outside table and immediately lit a cigarette.

Lewis came with the beer and sat down on the same bench. _He wants to avoid eye contact_, James decided.

Hathaway took the offensive. "Why are we not in the office?"

"A couple of reasons. I think Innocent may be after me for one, and for another, I don't want there to be any chance of anyone overhearing our conversation."

They drank in silence for a while.

Finally, Lewis drew in a deep breath.

"I want to ask you two questions. You remember when we were on that 'Life Born of Fire' case, with that Garden group and all?"

"Yes?" Like he could forget.

"Do you know why I got so angry with you?"

Long silence. Lewis didn't seem to be in any hurry, and Hathaway wanted to choose his words carefully.

"I lied to you about what I knew and I should have removed myself from the case."

"Half marks. I probably would have kept you on the case even though according to the book you should have been off." Hathaway's head came up a bit, and he looked over at Lewis, who continued.

"Your personal knowledge would have been useful, had I known of it, and I could serve as the necessary, objective eye to keep you from getting too involved. It was the fact that you kept that knowledge from me, made me flog the case for any clue that I could stumble on, which wasn't very many. That's what made me so angry. I wasn't given the ability to view the case objectively because I didn't know all the facts. If you'd been honest with me, we'd have made a cracking team." He fell silent, and worked on his beer a while.

Hathaway couldn't figure where this was going. _We've been over this before._ _Why bring it up again?_ Then it hit him. _He's trying to get me to talk before I'm ready_. He wouldn't take the bait. Anyway, why should James be honest when Lewis was holding back?

"You said there were two questions."

"Yeah." Long pause. "Do you know why we're having this conversation?"

Hathaway swallowed. "You want me to tell you why I blew up this afternoon."

Lewis looked surprised at that. "Naw, that isn't it. You'll explain that when you're good and ready. I know better than to try to draw you out." He paused again. "It's about the case, James."

Hathaway lit another cigarette and drank some more of his beer. Only one other answer entered his head, but he kept steering away from it. It _couldn't_ be what Lewis was driving at. Still, he had to try it out. He had no other ideas.

"You want to know if _I_ can be the objective eye on this case."

"Exactly."

_Bloody hell._

They both finished their beers, but neither made a move to leave.

"What is it about the case that makes you biased, Sir? Is it the upper-class, manor house thing?"

Lewis snorted. "That's nothing. I deal with that all the time." He rubbed his eyes. "No, it's much more than that. I'm way too close to this one. Personally, like. I should not be on this case. But if I'm taken off, the things I know go with me." He looked directly into James's eyes. "I need to trust you on this, and I need your promise that you'll trust me."

James looked down. He didn't feel especially trustworthy just now, nor did he feel much like trusting Lewis. He spoke to the ground. "I can't make that promise, Sir. Not right now, at least. I'm sorry that's my answer, but I've learned my lesson not to lie to you."

Lewis's mouth tightened. Finally, he looked away. "I'm sorry, too." Then he stood up. "We better get back so you can keep working on that list of houses."

There wasn't much left of the day. If Hathaway had been interested in completing the list of privately-owned, local, great houses, he would have stayed until it was done. But he wasn't.

Shortly after Lewis silently packed it in for the evening, Hathaway stood up to go. But he had already stayed a little too late.

"Sergeant Hathaway, do you have a moment?"

Standing awkwardly in Innocent's office, Hathaway tried to sound casual as he explained that yes, he and Lewis had had a bit of a tiff that afternoon but no, it would not affect their progress on the case and things were ninety-percent patched up.

She looked thoroughly unconvinced. "Get this sorted, and soon. Lord and Lady Chilton are looking for results here, Sergeant. Their stature in this community requires that we produce those results."

"I just take orders, Ma'am. Inspector Lewis is in charge of sorting."

"Inspector Lewis is courting a suspension. _You're_ the one who flew out of the office in a rage, causing him to be insubordinate to me. That makes it your problem. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Ma'am. Perfectly."


	5. Wednesday

The next morning found Hathaway staring uselessly at a list of houses. One of the DCs had unearthed more reports of break-ins that seemed to fit the gaps in their timeline. These occurred at businesses, flats, and a narrowboat, rather than manors and mansions.

As if this were not enough, although some of these places used Belton Security, several used another company, L & H Security. The search, rather than narrowing, was broadening.

Lewis came in and sat at his desk, taking notes on something. He worked at this for some time, never consulting the file, and barely showing an interest in the updates Hathaway made.

Late in the morning, Innocent's sergeant knocked on the door. "Detective Inspector Lewis? The Chief Superintendent would like to see you."

He got up without a word and followed her out. She ushered him into Innocent's office and left, closing the door behind her. He knew better than to speak without an invitation.

"Your behavior yesterday, Lewis, calls for discipline. You obviously know that, or you wouldn't be avoiding me."

"Yes, Ma'am." In his most subservient tone.

"But I need you working on the break-ins, and of course the murder, so I won't suspend you now. My decision is this: I want a written apology to me personally by noon. And I want _progress_, Lewis. There seems to be little interest in making much effort on this case. That changes _now_. You will resolve the break-in at Stoneleigh Manor in a week, if not sooner. If there is no arrest of the housebreaker by next Wednesday at five o'clock, you need not report for work on Thursday, is that clear?"

"Yes, Ma'am. Perfectly."

"Good. You may go."

"Um, Ma'am? What about after Thursday?"

"There will be no 'after Thursday' for you, Lewis."

* * *

Hathaway's team was making no progress. There was simply nothing to go on. The rest of Wednesday was spent chasing dead ends and sifting through countless, meaningless names and addresses. Lewis appeared totally uninterested in the proceedings, especially once he got his painstakingly written apology done.

At one point, the sergeant looked up. "Sir, are you going to help us find either of these blokes or not?"

Lewis looked straight at him. "No. I already know who they are."

Hathaway stared at him. Was he joking? If not, he was in serious breach of his professional duty.

"Are you . . . withholding evidence?"

"No, James. That wouldn't be right. There's no evidence I'm keeping from you."

"But you know something."

Lewis got up. "Let me know when you find something, won't you? I'm curious to see how long it takes." He went out of the office.

* * *

Late that evening, James and Laura were sitting at an outdoor table at the Fox and Hounds. Hathaway lit his third cigarette. He was on this second pint and was physically quite relaxed. But his mind was restless, buzzing with too many unsettling thoughts.

"He knows who did the murder and who is doing the break-ins, and he won't tell me."

"Why not?"

She studied his face as he worked through the answers that came to him. She saw the problem and summed it up succinctly: "Ohhh," she said with regret. "You're not a team any more."

His sharp retort died on his lips. She was right.

"James. You have to have this out with him. It's poisoning you both."


	6. Thursday

Lewis already at his computer when Hathaway came in on Thursday. Lewis looked Hathaway up and down and went back to what he was doing. After working an hour or so, James got up to have a cigarette. Lewis looked up.

"Hathaway—"

James cocked his head inquiringly. But he was not smiling.

Lewis just exhaled through his nose and looked away.

Smoking his second of the break, Hathaway stewed about the situation. The longer it went, the harder it was to break the silence. And Lewis wasn't making it any easier.

His phone buzzed. _Hobson calling_. He clicked it on. "Hi."

"I have a DNA match for you. Does the name Will Fairington ring any bells?"

"One of the day-laborers. He's the sex partner?"

"If he wasn't, he was mighty close to the action."

"Think he's our killer?"

"That's _your_ job, Sergeant. Yours and Lewis's."

Stony silence.

"He came around here last night, did he tell you? After I was gone. Well, after almost everyone was gone, it was after ten. Brought someone with him to look at the victim."

"'Someone?' Don't you people have some sort of sign-in at least, at that hour?"

"'John Smith.' So what does that tell you?"

"What's the big secret? He sat there at his desk this morning and said nothing. The man is really getting aggravating."

"How hard have you been trying, James?"

"Well, I'm certainly not the only one who's not trying. He's the senior officer, he's the one who's supposed to be acting maturely." James winced inwardly at how infantile his remarks sounded.

He sighed. "I'll pick up the report in a while. Forensics is supposed to be checking some other cases for me and should have that by this afternoon." He added as an afterthought, "Thanks."

He rang off and went back to his neglected cigarette. He just needed some time to think. But almost immediately, his phone buzzed again. _Lewis calling_. In a flare of irritation, Hathaway punched the button declining the call. _Just give me a little time to work this through, would you?!_

He finally finished his smoke and went back to the office, having resolved at least one thing. He would try to be nice. He wasn't ready to explain things yet, but maybe if he explained even that much, Lewis would cut him a break.

But Lewis was not in the office. James could try calling, he supposed, but since he had no idea what the man was doing, that might not be the best idea.

He decided to see what the new information from Hobson would do. He called up Will Fairington's record. One count of armed assault, ten years ago. Served five for that. Last known address was in Kidlington. Time to pay a visit.

But when Hathaway arrived at the address, a Pakistani man answered. No, he didn't know Will Fairington. Yes, he had been living in this flat for two years. No, he didn't recognize the file photo of Will Fairington. So sorry.

James had with him his list of manor houses. He decided to do a little touring. With the help of his GPS, he drove by five of the houses on his list. They all looked empty even though he knew three were not.

Finally, he turned back to Oxford. By three in the afternoon, he was at Forensics to see what they had made of the scant evidence from the other break-in sites. The sergeant handed him the report almost regretfully.

"It's nothing. We can't find anything. No DNA to take, no fingerprints. Nothing. Sorry, mate."

James thought of several colorful words to describe this result, but was silent. It would be nice if they could just let this one go, but Innocent would keep flogging them because this involved the lovely and charming Lady Chilton. Maybe Lewis was right after all about different rules applying to the rich.

He turned around sharply, in a sour mood, and almost slammed into Dr. Hobson.

"Easy there, big guy. Any joy?"

"More useless reports. And I can't find Will Fairington." He looked supremely frustrated. "Lewis has as good as told me he'll only pull his weight on this case if I trust him."

Concerned, she shook her head. "You two have to get this sorted, whatever it is. You're both too good at avoiding confrontations." An idea came to her. "I'm taking you and him for a drink after work Friday. You're going to put an end to this."

"Don't count on it," was his resigned reply.

* * *

He had no sooner tossed the reports on his desk when Innocent came sailing into the office, all smiles.

"Well, a confessed killer in custody, the body identified, now all you need is the house-breaker! These are the kind of results I'm looking for!"

Hathaway could do nothing but stand there, open-mouthed, as she beamed at him. "I have no idea what you're referring to, Ma'am."

Heading back to the office lost in thought, Lewis didn't see his superior officer standing in the doorway until it was too late. He stopped short, but then squared his shoulders and approached.

"Lewis, Hathaway informs me you did not have his assistance on this arrest. Don't tell me you went out to bring in a murderer by yourself."

"Ah, no, Ma'am. I called uniform. I had them for backup and to bring him in. I . . . uh . . . couldn't find Sergeant Hathaway."

She looked sternly at James. "You were where?"

"Um, I guess I missed his call."

She huffed. "You two are _not_ done with this case. Lady Chilton is far more concerned with the break-in of their home than the random appearance of a killer's girlfriend on her lawn! Do _not_ decrease your pace on this, am I understood?"

"Yes, Ma'am," they mumbled in unison.

When she left, Hathaway turned to Lewis. The older man's dark face gave him pause, but he had to say what was on his mind.

"So, what is this? You're running around solving the case on your own now? You want all the glory for yourself or are you trying to teach me a lesson?"

Lewis snorted. "It's hardly glory, the unreliable, superficial praise of our Chief Superintendent. Anyway, I'm not the one on the fast track."

"Fast track? Ever since I got paired with you my career has ground to a halt."

"So now your stalled career is my fault too? I really don't believe this. I did this collar myself because I couldn't _find_ you, Hathaway. You trashed my call. I wasn't going to wait around all day for your mood to improve."

"So you identified the body, identified the killer, and got him to confess all in one afternoon? Where did _this_ brilliance come from?"

"I got a tip." He looked away.

"A _tip_? From where?"

"I have . . . people. There are people out there on the streets who trust me."

Hathaway fumed at the intentional dig.

"It was one of the day-laborers. Robert Walling. She was his live-in punching bag. Then she found a bit of solace in Will Fairington, another member of the work gang. Apparently, Walling is the jealous type. He's done time for two domestic assaults. He confessed surprisingly readily."

"Did you get a 'tip' on the break-ins, too?'

"You could say that." Lewis offered nothing further.

"Well, it's great that one of us had a productive day." He took his jacket and left.

* * *


	7. Friday

Friday morning, after they had spent a couple of hours getting nothing accomplished, Chief Superintendent Innocent stopped in their open doorway. She could almost see both men heighten their guards and man the battlements. She frowned and folded her arms in front of her.

"Progress?" She looked at Lewis.

He looked at Hathaway.

Hathaway had nowhere else to look. "Well, Ma'am, we keep gathering more information but I don't think it's going to help. The answer is right here in this office, I'm sure of it." He glanced at a perfectly innocent-looking Lewis. "I'm going to talk to the gardener again. See if we can track down that gang of laborers he hired."

She shook her head. "No good, Hathaway. The Chiltons sacked him when they found out some of those workers he hired had criminal records."

"Who told them that?" Hathaway was exasperated at losing another possible lead.

"I did, Sergeant. They had a right to know." She glared at him as if he were challenging her authority. Then she looked at each of them in turn.

"Now, how are you two getting along?"

Hathaway wasn't sure how to answer that. "Well—" But Lewis cut him off, sounding sad and resigned.

"I can't work with him any longer. I don't know what it is. I'm willing to give but he won't talk to me." Hathaway couldn't have been more stunned if Lewis had hit him with a sledgehammer. But Lewis wasn't done.

"I've got me request here to be assigned a different sergeant. Doesn't matter who." He handed her the form, avoiding Hathaway's eyes.

She accepted it with the look of an angry parent. "This better not be one of your temper tantrums, Lewis. This time you just might get what you wish for." She turned and stalked out of the room.

Hathaway scrambled to his feet and sprinted after her. She let him follow her into her office.

"I assume from your kicked-in-the-gut expression that you were not expecting this. What is Lewis up to? I can't dismiss the disturbing thought that he is deliberately dragging his feet on this case. Does he have some personal entanglement in this?"

As bad as things were, they could only get worse if she got involved. "Ma'am, it's—the problem is with me. But he doesn't realize how close this is to being resolved. I'm sure he wouldn't do this if he knew." He looked at her, desperate. Most of the other DIs on a good day were far worse to work for than Lewis on a bad day. And James just needed time to put things right.

"Please, Ma'am, don't reassign me. Just give me a couple more days—a week at the most."

Her look pierced him. "He hasn't told you about the conversation I had with him two days ago." She assessed his puzzled reaction and continued.

"Inspector Lewis has been informed that if an arrest has not been made for the Stoneleigh Manor break-in by five o'clock Wednesday, his employment relationship here will be over. I will keep you two together until then, regardless of how miserable it makes him."

She turned to the work on her desk. "If that seems harsh or unfair to you, I suggest you try your hand at resolving the case so it doesn't happen."

* * *

But Hathaway's team had made no progress by the end of work on Friday. It seemed like the list of possible suspects grew each day yet there was really no evidence against any of them. And Lewis did not seem to give a toss whether they solved the case or not, even if it cost him his career.

Still, when James told him Laura was going to front them for drinks at the Saracen's Head that night, Lewis agreed to come along, even though he looked to be just going through the motions of being polite.

She was at a table already, with three pints and two double shots of scotch in front of her.

"Drink those now." She pointed to the tumblers. "I'm going to sit over there—" she pointed to the far side of the room "—and enjoy my drink, while you two actually speak to each other."

The two men had no trouble knocking back their shots. Then they both stared at the table for a rather long time.

Lewis broke the standoff.

"This is about Saturday, isn't it?"

"Yep."

"Look, I just . . . " he gave up, and chugged nearly half his beer at once. "Sod this," he muttered under his breath.

But he made another go.

"She's not yours to control, you know. I have every right to . . . do whatever I want with her."

Still Hathaway said nothing.

Lewis ran through fifty things he wanted to shout at the younger man: it was none of his business, he had no right to get angry, it wasn't his place, and so on. Finally, he screwed up his face, grabbed Hathaway by the shoulders, and hissed,

"Hathaway, what the bloody hell is botherin' you? What have I done wrong?"

Hathaway stared him in the eyes for a long time. Then,

"You disappointed me, Sir. You turned out to be human. You were supposed to be better than that."

With that, James got up and left the pub.

* * *


	8. Sunday, week 2

Lewis answered the ringing doorbell within seconds. He was surprised to see who was there, so late on a Sunday. But he kept his hand on the door and leaned against the jamb, blocking the entrance.

"Sir." Hathaway looked down after briefly meeting Lewis's eyes. James looked completely defeated. He and his team had worked fruitlessly through the weekend. Now Hathaway was facing another week of blind groping on this stupid, petty case, even though he knew Lewis had the answer.

And there was something else on his mind.

"Sir, I've been thinking all weekend on this."

"On the case, you mean?" Lewis made no move to let him in.

"No, Sir. On us. You and me."

He had Lewis's full attention.

But he remained standing obstinately in the doorway. "I'm, uh . . . not really free just now, Sergeant." His eyes were hard and cold.

Hathaway decided he didn't want to know why or how his boss was occupied this evening. "Can I say this here? I don't need to come in."

A silent nod.

Hathaway stood a little taller. "I can make that promise you asked of me, Sir. I trust you."

Lewis was silent for a long time. "Why is that?"

"Just don't stop me, Sir, okay?" He took a big breath. Then he closed his eyes. "I had this image of you as this . . . perfect man, perfect _gentleman_. Always doing what was right, what was just, even if it meant bending the rules. That was how I saw you. But Saturday I found out that you're just a man like the rest of us. A _human_. Capable of making mistakes, of succumbing to biology, to brain chemistry, whatever you want to call it."

He opened his eyes, looking directly into Lewis's. "I saw you as no different from a beast. And then I was destroyed by your failure to be what I thought you were." He swallowed hard, then blew out his cheeks.

"When I finally cooled down enough to think objectively, I saw that your . . . the things you've been through, I mean, would make an ordinary man into a beast pretty much all the time." He stopped, struggling to put what he wanted to say into words.

"I'm sorry, Sir, for requiring you to be perfect. It was unfair. We've been working side by side for a week but we haven't been a team at all. Everything feels wrong." He looked directly at the older man. "Please let us be a team again, Sir."

Lewis shook his head in a mix of relief and amusement, a hint of a smile on his face.

"You sound like you're askin' us to marry you, man."

James looked up with alarm, but relaxed when he saw Lewis's smile.

Lewis continued. "Come to that, it's not so much different, is it?"

They both grinned a little.

"Hathaway, I realized Friday that you were back on my side. Otherwise, you'd've told Innocent that I was stonewalling on the case, and she'd've had me cleaning out me desk that same day."

"_Keep_ stonewalling, Sir, and you'll be cleaning it out next week anyway."

Lewis showed surprise that Hathaway knew about that.

"Ah, yeah, well, I'm still working on that part."

Lewis stepped back into the house, opening the door wide. "Look, why don't you come in and have a beer. There's someone here I want you to meet."

James sloped into the kitchen and flung open the refrigerator door. He stood amazed.

"What is _this_?" Almost the entire space was filled with bottles of Newcastle Brown Ale.

Lewis laughed. "What does it look like, man? It's _Broon_! Have one!"

James took one, and popped the cap off with the opener.

Lewis had turned to the sofa where sat a short, square man with close-cropped, grey hair and a friendly face. "Danny, this is my Sergeant, James Hathaway." He turned to James. "This is Danny. He's an old mate of mine from back before you were born. We were PCs together in Newcastle."

Danny stood up and the two shook hands. The other man came up to James's armpit, at best. Hathaway noticed he walked with a limp.

"You divvn't tell us he was a ruddy giraffe, Robbie, man!"

Hathaway was intrigued. "You were mates with Inspector Lewis, back in the days of the dinosaurs?"

"Whey aye, man. Well, there were four of us, right? Robbie and me, and Jimmy, and Mack. They called us 'The Posse." 'Cos we got more collars than the others combined. And we were clean, too. No wrongful arrest with us lot. Never take a bung."

Lewis nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, aye. We had no trouble on the housing estates. Them gadgies gan canny when we was aboot."

Hathaway leaned over to his boss. "I'm starting to lose the translation, Sir. A bit less Geordie if you want me to keep up, okay?"

"Sorry. It's just, seeing Danny—it really brings back those glory days. We could always count on each other. Had each other's backs no matter how rough it got."

Danny added, "We did everything together—worked hard, played hard, drank hard."

Hathaway smirked at Lewis, "I suppose that explains the tattoo."

Danny let out a whoop. "Oh, aye! That was a night to remember!"

Lewis groaned. "I don't remember it at all."

Chuckling, they all took pulls off their beer bottles. Then Hathaway asked, "Are you and the others still with Newcastle?"

The mood changed palpably. Danny spoke after giving Lewis a significant look. "Ah, no. None of us." Then a long silence.

James cocked his head at Lewis, who looked reluctant to add anything.

"Trust, Sir. Weren't we just talking about trust not too long ago? What happened to make you all leave the Newcastle force?"

Lewis studied an invisible point on the wall. "Orgreave happened. The Battle of Orgreave. Heard of it?"

James had to shake his head.

"Well, you'd have been a bairn at the time, and not likely your posh school would have taught you anything about it." He saw the umbrage start in Hathaway's look. "Well, they didn't, did they?"

"No."

"Right. Every coal miner's kid knows about it. So listen and learn about the other half." He finished his beer in one swallow.

"This was 1984, hard times in the north, coal mines closing and all. The union planned a big picket of the coking plant at Orgreave in south Yorkshire. The way I heard it, the gaffer of the South Yorkshire police, and whoever else politically, wanted to make a big show, make a point of crushing the picket. He brought in forces from all over: Cambridge, the Met, Newcastle, everywhere. Thousands of us. There were thousands of them, too, but not as many. It got ugly." He broke off to get himself another beer.

Danny took up the narrative. "We were ordered to advance on the workers, y'know? Take the offensive, like. We'd done strikes before but never like that. Goin' after the blokes without them goin' for us first. It divvn't feel right."

He looked grim. "Some of wor lads, they made sport of it. Enjoyed it, like, whacking with their sticks at anyone not wearing a uniform. There was dozens hurt on both sides. Almost a hundred arrests. Not one bloody conviction. Police ended up having to pay a huge settlement for the shite they dished that day."

Lewis broke in. "Danny, Mack, and me were just trying to keep out of it, really. Just stand our line without breaking."

He interrupted himself. "You've never done riot work, I imagine." Hathaway shook his head. Danny and Lewis exchanged a look.

"Anyway, Jimmy got really angry—he always had a temper—started yelling at the other lads to stop it, stop hitting, leave the poor bastards alone. They set on him then. Our own lads set on him. Mack and me had to pull him out of there. Then this horse—they had summat like fifty mounted officers, too—just came bearing down and nearly crushed us. Only Danny pushed us out of the way. Got his own leg broke for his trouble when the horse came down on it."

Lewis got quiet then. "Mack and Danny quit outright the next day. I got transferred down here, hoping it would be more civilized. Jimmy . . . Jimmy got pecked at and bullied by the lads for taking the miners' part. He topped himself a week after."

Danny shook his head sadly. "He tried to handle it alone. He should've called one of us. We'd've been there in a minute. Now it's just me and Mack and Robbie. Don't see each other much, like. But when you're a copper, your partner is your mate for life. Especially if you've pulled his bacon out of the fire or he's done for you. It's what partners do." Hathaway shuddered inwardly at the metaphor.

Then Danny snapped back to smiling. "Ahh, you already know that a'course. If you're Robbie's partner, you'll be saving his arse every week or so, like!"

"Aw, bollocks!" Lewis took a mock swing at Danny. "You just can't remember the times we saved you 'cos you were too pissed at the time!"

"Hah! I think you might be right there, man!"

The two older men were soon practically roaring with laughter at their memories. As he got himself another beer, Hathaway did a quick count of the empties in the sink. That could explain a lot of the good humor. Still, even James was having a good time, and he was only on his second.

He turned to Danny. "You never had moments of doubt, times you weren't sure if you could trust one of them?" Lewis gave him a cautionary look.

"Oh, aye, a'course. Couldn't stand the lot at times, too, especially Mack. But there's only one way you can know how strong that bond is, and that's to look back after you've tested it hard and come out a better team. All it takes is the guts to hang on to it, not just let it go, like Jimmy did." That quieted them down a bit.

_Or test it to destruction_, James reflected.

"Well, I'd better get myself off home. You old men can keep reminiscing about the days you were in your prime. Unless you want to share a taxi?"

Lewis spoke up quickly. "Danny's going to kip here. I'm not putting my old mate out on the street."

"So you just got into Oxford today?"

Lewis and Danny exchanged looks. Lewis answered for him again. "Turns out he's been here a while and I didn't even know. Ran into him at the Maiden's yesterday."

Danny was giving Lewis a strange look, which was returned by an almost imperceptible shake of the head. Then he spoke slowly. "Some things here fell through for me. But Robbie told me about Stoneleigh Manor needing a gardener, so I'm going to see about that first thing tomorrow."

Hathaway thought a moment. "Why not try for a post on the force here?"

"Aw, nah, I've got this gammy leg, see? And—" He stopped, glancing sideways at Lewis. "—and I've got a bit of form, like. They'd not take me on the force."

Hathaway took his empty bottle to the sink. "Too bad, we can always use a good, honest cop."

Although his back was turned, he could overhear Danny muttering very quietly to Lewis. "_Robbie, he's your partner, man! Ya cannit keep it from him!_"

He turned and said goodnight, and headed for the door. "James, it was great meeting you!" Danny called. "An' try to be patient with this old bugger you're stuck with. He can be right stubborn some times, but he's got a good heart."

As Hathaway strode through the night, he kept gnawing at the certain knowledge that Lewis had heavily edited his answers. There was far more beer in the fridge than two men would need for a night or two. Even if they were both Geordies.

* * *


	9. Monday, week 2

Lewis arrived at the office well after ten on Monday. His hair was uncombed, his eyes were red, and he had cut himself shaving.

"Did you two finish off all that beer, Sir?"

Lewis turned, his eyes half-closed. His voice was ragged. "You're makin' too much noise, Hathaway, man. I'm way out of practice keeping up with Danny. Spent all night drinking beer and all morning puking it back up. Had to get Danny over to Stoneleigh or I wouldn't be here at all. At least Danny seems fine. I'm probably still over the limit. Bloody hell." He crumpled into his chair and laid his head on the desk.

"Then you'll be happy to hear Innocent's in London for the next two days."

He raised his head. "That's the best news I've heard in a long time." He swallowed several times. "Uh, pass me that wastepaper basket, would you? Just in case."

Around two o'clock, Danny called to say he had gotten the post.

"That's great, Danny, man. You staying there the rest of the day or what?"

When he rang off, he turned to Hathaway. "He needs me to pick him up. I'm not going to make it back here, okay? I'm not getting anything done anyway."

Hathaway had to seize the moment. "Sir, can I ask you this? Do you have something you're going to pull out between now and Wednesday evening? Only you don't seem to be working very hard to keep your job."

Lewis just smiled sadly and went out.

James watched him go. _Just two more days_.

* * *


	10. Tuesday, week 2

Hathaway spent Tuesday working over the list of possible targets for the current break-in. Lewis spent no more than half the day physically in the office, making and receiving quite a number of calls on his mobile that required him to jump up and leave the room.

As Hathaway worked over the spreadsheet he had created, he started to see a pattern appearing, a correlation of location, type of lock, number of staff, and layout of the house. Then it fell into place. _There you are_.

"Farnsworth Hall." He said it just as Lewis was about to sit down. The man jolted upright. He quickly recollected his control, but the damage was done and Hathaway smiled triumphantly.

Lewis had to concede victory. "Brilliant. How did you get that worked out?"

James explained the pattern he saw forming in the data and how Farnsworth Hall was the only one that really fit. Lewis was clearly impressed.

"Hey, can you tell where he would go after that?"

Hathaway studied the chart some more. "Tippington House, I'd say."

Lewis let out a low whistle, shaking his head in admiration. "You're _good_!"

Hathaway fairly glowed. But then another thought came to him.

"So . . . we should go out to Farnsworth and pick him up, I guess. I'm sorry, Sir. You're protecting him, aren't you?"

"He's not at Farnsworth Hall."

"What?" He was thoroughly confused. "You just said he was."

"He was, aye. He's not now."

Hathaway looked miserable. "Aren't you supposed to be trusting me? I'm supposed to be your _partner_, right?"

Lewis said, regretfully, "I know how this must seem to you, James. I do trust you. But I'm not just protecting him. I'm protecting myself. And I'm protecting you, too."

He looked like he was going to say more, but then his mobile rang and he snapped it up and left the office.

Hathaway felt a cold knot in his gut. _That's exactly what I thought I was doing when I didn't tell you about the Garden_.

When Lewis finally came back to the office rather late, Hathaway was still there.

"How about a pint, Sir? Toast to partners?"

"Ah, no, I can't. I'm doing something, only I'm already late. Tomorrow though, okay? I'll tell you everything then." And he dashed out of the office.

* * *


	11. Wednesday, week 2

First thing Wednesday morning, Innocent stopped in.

"No one is shouting, that's an improvement." She seemed to expect an answer to her non-question.

"You two are . . . ?"

"Still partners, Ma'am." Lewis's tone was flat.

She scowled. "I'm sorry if that is a problem for you, Lewis. You are well aware of your tenuous situation here. It is not the time to assign you a new sergeant on what could be your last day of employment."

"No, Ma'am. I wasn't talking about being _technically_ still partners. Hathaway and I are still work partners in _spirit_. _Workmates_. Which means any attempts by you to divide and conquer us will fail." He smiled pleasantly.

She rolled her eyes. "Well, won't that be a nice change. But, still no arrest?"

"You'll be the first to know, Ma'am."

After she had gone, Hathaway closed the door and looked straight at Lewis. "Sir, it's troubling to me that you expect me to trust you when you obviously aren't telling me everything. How can I be the 'objective eye' here when I don't have all the facts?"

A moment's thought. "Fair enough. What do you want to know?"

"Who's doing this and where he is." Hathaway gulped and took the gamble. "He's staying at your house, isn't he? Drinking your beer?" He squirmed internally at being so frank.

Lewis focused directly on James's eyes. He spoke very slowly and very quietly.

"You need to think about what you will have to do if I answer that. You're a good cop. Think about what will have to happen." He just sat there, concentrating very hard on his partner.

James was hit full force by the implications embedded in Lewis's words. By not answering, Lewis _had_ answered him, in the only honest way he could. _He was an accessory to crime_, and possibly interfering with an investigation. But he had taken care to ensure that Hathaway had no evidence of that. Lewis would lose his job for protecting his mate, but at least he would avoid criminal charges. James was shocked by the high price Lewis was willing to pay to help his old partner.

Hathaway swallowed. "Let me try asking about something else you're not telling me. What is it you do on Tuesday nights?"

Lewis looked blank for a minute. Then he averted his eyes, flushing a bit. "It's nothing. It's personal."

"Sir? Trust me?"

Lewis clearly struggled in his head. Finally, he muttered, "It's a cooking class, okay? Tryin' to learn us how to cook."

The sudden defusing of tension made Hathaway start to giggle. It was contagious, and soon they both were wiping their eyes and gasping for breath.

Eventually, they regained control and just looked at each other a moment. Lewis's eyes were shining.

"Hathaway. Thank God you're back."

* * *

While Lewis went out to take another call on his mobile, Hathaway thought about what he knew. By the time Lewis returned to the office, James had made up his mind.

"Sir, I'm going to arrest Danny. His last name is Carter, isn't it? One of the day-laborers. He's your source for the murderer of the woman, right? If I arrest him, no one needs to find out about your involvement."

Lewis shook his head. "He knew all about Walling beating his woman, and was there when Walling confronted Fairington about cutting in on him. When he saw the body on the lawn, he felt he had to call. Only the first responding unit got there faster than he expected." He looked sad. "James, I have to do what I can to protect him."

"And you have done, Sir. Look, I checked his prior and it's nothing. Cautioned for vagrancy. Fined for drunk and disorderly. Petty stuff. There's no evidence linking him to any other house, just the DNA from the bottles at Stoneleigh. They'd never get a conviction on any of the other places."

"I won't let him get put in the nick, James. An ex-cop? He'd be torn to shreds in minutes."

"I'm doing some checking. Called an old schoolmate, Blair Crandall. He's now with CPS. I'm trying to find out what they would recommend for sentencing. And if they could even convict him on what we have. But he hasn't called me back yet, he's in trial today, apparently."

Lewis glanced at his watch. Less than five hours. Hathaway noticed the movement.

"Really, Danny will be fine, Sir. Let me go pick him up." He searched for the right way to say what he was thinking. "I just got you broken in, Sir. I can't start on a new inspector tomorrow."

Lewis smiled briefly. "You can't pick him up today, he just got a new job and he has to be there tomorrow. Unless CPS doesn't charge him at all, he's going to be in at least til noon tomorrow, even if he pleads." He thought it over. "We could get him Friday after work _if_ your chap at CPS promises he gets no time. Then he'd be out before Monday morning."

Lewis became chillingly serious. "And you won't be the one to go on Friday, Hathaway. If anyone brings Danny in, it has to be me."

James stared. _The man is in complete denial_. He could barely get out the words. "But, Sir, by Friday . . . you won't be a cop any more."

Lewis closed his eyes and slumped. His only comment, just above a whisper, was a word Hathaway almost never heard him use.

"Shit."

* * *

By four o'clock, Hathaway had not heard from Crandall. His sense of alarm was growing.

"So you don't have a backup plan or anything? You knew you wouldn't make an arrest and were just going to accept the sack? Lose your pension?"

"Well, my best bet right now is to grieve it. I've been back and forth on the phone with the Federation all week. Innocent can't sack me just because I can't solve one petty case. It's way disproportionate."

"You can't always count on them to take your part, Sir. What's your worst bet?"

"I shouldn't tell you this, but I'm supposed to be trusting you, right? I looked into finding anyone making a plea this week who'd be inside a long time. Maybe he could be given a bit of a break for admitting to this." He looked away from Hathaway's reproachful look.

"But that's . . . I mean, if you got found out at that . . . _You actually considered it_?"

"Not for very long. It would involve trusting a criminal. Not to mention inciting perjury. It was a stupid idea. But it was the only other one I had."

The clock's hands continued to move.

"Sir, we have to try to stall Innocent. Tell her we know who it is and know he's in the area but just can't find him and it's just a matter of tracking him down and making the collar, and I can't do it alone, so she has to keep you on and she needs to give you until six on Friday and we'll have him by then."

"That was quite a sentence, Hathaway. What happens to Danny?"

"I'm sure I can work with Crandall. He owes me from school. They're not going to lock him in the nick for uninvited house-sitting, for Pete's sake."

"It's worth a try. But if Crandall goes south on us, I'm taking the hit on Friday. Danny's not going down, promise?"

"I'm supposed to be saving _your_ arse, not his."

"You're helping me keep a promise to me mate."

Hathaway nodded.

Lewis smiled. "Good. Let's go double-team her."

The Chief Superintendent was not surprised to see her most brilliant, and most aggravating, team of detectives at her door at four-twenty-five that day.

"You still have thirty-five minutes to find him. What are you doing here?"

"We know who it is, Ma'am. But we can't locate him exactly. He's in the area, though. It was one of the day-laborers and he's still doing odd jobs around here." Lewis used his most groveling voice.

Hathaway chimed in. "We'd like you to consider extending Inspector Lewis's . . . um, probation until Friday at six. I can't bring the man in myself, very well."

"I could assign a uniformed team to accompany you."

Lewis spoke up. "He'd bolt. I've been tracking him all week, getting closer all the time. I know how he thinks, and I know where he'll be on Friday after work."

She appraised the situation. "So you two really are getting along again?"

"Thick as thieves, Ma'am."

_That lad is really going to get me sacked some day_, Lewis thought as he just barely suppressed a snort.

She looked very nonsmiling. "Not my favorite idiom."

After considering the matter for some time, Innocent looked up at them.

"Right. Friday. I'll give you until seven, and that's it. And Lewis?"

"Ma'am?"

"You can have this back. Since I will not be approving it, I think it's best if it stays out of the system completely, don't you?" She handed him back his form requesting a new sergeant.

* * *

They returned to their office without a word. Hathaway checked his messages. Nothing yet from Crandall. He glanced up at Lewis to tell him but the words stuck in his throat. Lewis had his head tipped back all the way, his eyes squeezed shut. Tears were streaming from the corners of his eyes. Not a sound came from him. Hathaway felt his own eyes watering. He got up and quietly went out.

He was alone at his favorite smoke break location and had just lit up when his phone buzzed. He pulled it out so fast he almost dropped it. But was Dr. Hobson, not Crandall.

"It's been days, James, what is happening? Last time I saw you, you were bottling it and bolting from the Saracen's Head. I've been worried about the wall of silence from you two ever since."

Hathaway blew out his cheeks. "We're on the brink of Hell here, Laura. It's a long story and it doesn't yet have an end."

"You're _still_ not talking?"

"Oh, no. That—we're good on that. Better than ever, I'd say. But we had to go to battle against Innocent for Lewis's job today and it's still on the chopping block. And he's facing a moral dilemma, big time."

She made an exasperated sound. "I am so far behind. Can you two go for a drink tonight? Catch me up?"

"I doubt it. Lewis will be too shell-shocked, I expect. And I'll be doing whatever he needs me to do."

"Is Innocent seriously thinking of sacking him?"

"If she's not, she puts on a good bluff."

"I must say, you do sound like a team again."

After a moment's reflection: "Is any of this my fault, James?"

"Strangely, no. In fact, your little indiscretion with him may have been a catalyst we've been needing for some time."

"Any idea how long the current crisis will last?"

"In the perfect world, Saturday would be a great night for a party. Either that or we'll need you to help keep Lewis away from sharp objects."

"I'll keep it clear."

When he got back to the office, Lewis was on his mobile. He quickly ended the call as Hathaway entered.

Hathaway looked at him, one eyebrow raised. "There's still more I don't know, isn't there?"

"I'm not providing you anything admissible until this is over."

Hathaway nodded. "I'm good with that. Hey, do want me to be there when you tell Danny?" _Can I safely leave you two alone?_

Lewis thought for quite a long time. "I don't really have room for you to kip. At least one of us should get a good night's sleep." _This needs to be between just him and me._

"Well, you have my number." _You better call me if anything happens_. "Look, if I hear from Crandall tonight I'll buzz you no matter what. So don't you and that Geordie fugitive get pissed blind until after you've heard from me."

"Pallatic."

"What?"

"Geordie for 'pissed blind.'"

Hathaway gave him a strange look.

"Like 'paralytic,' I think."

Hathaway rolled his eyes. Then he became more serious. "Are you okay, really? You're telling Danny tonight what we worked out today?"

"Of course—to both questions."

* * *

About ten o'clock that night, Hathaway finally got the call he was waiting for.

"James, my good man. Sorry to call so late. We're in jury deliberations and thought for sure they'd have a verdict if we made them stay long enough. So I can't talk very long, we're bringing them back first thing tomorrow. What can I do for you?"

Hathaway gave a somewhat edited version of events, explained about the break-in and how Innocent was rabid about seeing someone punished for it. He told Crandall they were reluctant to arrest the fellow responsible because they knew he was no longer inclined to squat in vacant houses, now being gainfully employed despite a few past arrests.

"The guy is an ex-cop, Blair. A good man. He was just down on his luck for a bit and homeless, trying to stay off the streets."

"That doesn't make it legal, mate. How strong a case is it?"

"We have DNA linking him to the site. But he was a day-laborer there, too, along with nine other chaps."

"And?"

"And that's it, really."

"What makes you think he did it? Has he confessed?"

"All we have is inadmissible hearsay from a witness who won't talk any more. Somebody said that somebody said. That kind of thing."

"Shit. You can't get your witness to testify?"

"No way. Even if we find him, he won't testify because he'd incriminate himself."

"And that's all?"

"Yep."

"For what, a pound or two of cheese and a couple bottles of beer? Your Chief Super is pushing for this? What a waste of time and money. There's no case here. We can't even caution him on it."

"Governor wants an arrest, Blair."

"So arrest him, and we'll let him go."

"Guaranteed?"

"Unless you get your witness to talk, hell, yes, guaranteed. Even then, I mean, who cares? Fix the lock and get on with your lives, people. What's got your Chief Super's knickers in a knot, anyway?"

"The Chiltons are friends of hers."

Crandall was silent a moment. "You know, that kind of thing really sets them off around here. Supervising officers trying to influence investigations because of their own interests. You guys talk to the Assistant Chief Constable about this?"

"No way. We're just trying to keep our noses as clean as possible."

"Well, that's you all over, i'n'it, James? Look, I need to go. When's the pinch planned?"

"Friday, after five."

"Give me a buzz and I'll take care of it. You'll be having a pint with the bloke by eight. Cheers."


	12. Thursday, week 2

Thursday found the two men short of ways to occupy their time. Hathaway got the reports written up as far as he could, took out the arrest warrant, cleaned up his notes, and reviewed the papers. Lewis regaled him with stories of "The Posse" from more than twenty-five years ago.

When he came back from a smoke break, Hathaway faced Lewis.

"Sir, I'd like to think you trust me enough to tell me, without providing evidence, how Mack is involved in this."

"_Mack?_"

"You _three_ were mates together, standing up for each other. Mack is somewhere in this room, isn't he?" Hathaway waved at the file and papers on the desks. "On the Belton list, maybe?" He saw Lewis's pupils widen slightly.

"Only 'Mack' is his nickname, isn't it? Not his first name, and not his full last name." Hathaway gave Lewis another chance to speak, which he did not take.

"I was just on the phone with the Newcastle Police personnel department. I'm sure you know what I found."

Silence.

"Mack would let Danny know what houses were available and ensure they weren't checked too closely, right?" No answer. "What I don't get is, why not just ask you for help directly? Why this crazy scheme of squatting in vacant houses?"

Lewis spoke at last. "I can tell you this: Danny came down here when I was on attachment. He couldn't find me. Mack lives in a one-room let. Doesn't have space for another body in there. So Mack helped him in the only way he could."

"Have you talked to Mack?"

Lewis's look was veiled. "You know, there was a day last week when you went off on your own. Remember? Right before you left, you threw the Belton list across the room." He couldn't resist adding, "That's when it hit me."

Hathaway groaned. But he remembered Laura had once told him Lewis was especially likely to crack jokes when he was under severe emotional stress, and he kept a watchful eye on the older man the rest of the day.

* * *


	13. Friday, week 2

The next morning, Hathaway was a bit surprised to find Lewis already in the office, clear-eyed and dressed in one of his better suits. Chief Superintendent Innocent seemed to be more present than usual during the morning, however, and they did not discuss what was uppermost in their minds until she disappeared around lunchtime.

"So is Danny okay about this, being arrested by you? He's not going to bolt, is he?"

"I'll give him every chance I can. But when he found out I'll be getting the sack if I don't bring him in tonight, he practically turned himself in right then. It's not just a matter of me doing what's right by him. It goes both ways."

"You mean if Crandall can't deliver as promised and Danny is looking at some kind of conviction, you two will be fighting over who throws himself under the bus."

"We've worked it out, who pays what price. And you won't interfere." It was not a question. "Hell's teeth, I can't wait til this is over."

"You look like you could use some rest, Sir."

"Definitely. You know, I think I prefer dragging my partner through a burning building than this drawn-out pressure."

"You mean dragging your partner _out of _a burning building."

"Oh, aye, that too."

Around half past four, they headed out to the Shepherd's Crook. It was a popular gathering place for local laborers and workmen, and most of the customers were dusty compared to the two officers in suits.

They sat at an outdoor table, as planned. Hathaway smoked and drank his orange juice. Lewis had ordered a scotch.

He noticed Hathaway's raised eyebrow. "What? I might not have time to finish a pint."

From where they were sitting, they could see people going into and coming out of the entrance to the pub. Just after five, Lewis focused on a short man approaching at a steady pace. He nodded in that direction.

"I'll be in the car." Hathaway ground out his cigarette and went directly to the car to avoid being seen by Danny. Now that they had reached the last point of turning back, he would let the decision be between Lewis and his old mate. He wondered if only one man would be returning to the car and, if so, what James would say to him.

After about fifteen minutes, he saw them emerge from the pub together. Lewis had his arm across Danny's shoulders. Neither was talking. They got in the back seat without a word. The scotch was heavy on their breath.

Hathaway drove back to the station and Danny was processed and taken into custody. Lewis hung back from the custody officer on duty, letting Hathaway handle the face-to-face. It would not do to have the other man wonder about his sobriety. But he and Danny had to have a couple of last shots together, just in case the whole thing blew up in their faces.

When Hathaway was done, the officer on duty picked up the phone to make a call. "Chief Superintendent Innocent asked me to notify her when you two brought him in."

Hathaway sidled up to Lewis. "Mint, Sir?" offering him one. Gratefully, Lewis took it and sucked on it, trying to get the maximum benefit. Then Hathaway phoned Crandall, but told him to stall a bit. It would be better if Innocent was gone by the time Danny was released.

A few minutes later, she swept into the processing area where they waited for Crandall. "I've just telephoned Lady Chilton, and she is _very_ pleased with the outcome. She has invited me for tomorrow's garden tea, even. She did say she would have invited you two, but it will be a ladies' event and you'd both be rather out of place. She had hoped to introduce her new gardener, she is _quite_ pleased with the fellow you recommended, Lewis, but unfortunately he relies on the bus for transportation and it doesn't run on the weekends."

Lewis almost gagged, drawing her attention. She frowned. "Is that liquor I smell, Lewis?"

"Um, bile. Bit of a dodgy stomach."

She did not look completely convinced, but let it go. "Well, congratulations on wrapping this up. There was no link to the other break-ins, then?"

Hathaway answered. "There was really no evidence from those. No one bothered with fingerprints at the time because it was considered too petty to be worth it."

"Pity. It would be nice to improve our clean-up rate and really get this chap." She looked around. "CPS is not here yet? I really can't wait any longer. Need to get something new to wear to the garden tea. I suppose I'll see you _both_ on Monday, then." She gave Lewis a departing look that was a cross between _Good work_ and _You got a real break this time_.

No sooner had she left than Crandall arrived. "Gentlemen?"

"Good timing, Blair. The governor just left."

"What do you think I was waiting for in the car park?" He grinned. "No witnesses? Let's see what the paperwork looks like." He reviewed the forms and attachments. Then he called his supervisor to let her know he would not be charging this one.

"There's just no evidence to speak of. They can link the bloke to the house at the right time, but there's the same evidence for five other guys." He listened to the response. "Yeah, well, the officer in charge has—" he broke off. "Inspector Lewis, how long have you been a detective?"

Lewis had to think a minute. "About twenty-five years."

"—twenty-five years' experience. I think he _did_ know better but their guv was pushing for it, hard. I'll talk to you about it when I get back."

He signed the dismissal and handed it to Lewis to sign. Lewis passed it over to Hathaway since it was Hathaway's name on the warrant. The less traceable involvement Lewis had, the happier he'd be.

The custody officer went back with Danny's things and told him he was free to go, no charges had been filed. When Danny came out, he shook hands first with Hathaway, then with Lewis. Lewis put his left hand on Danny's shoulder, and Danny put his on their clasped right hands. Danny was choking up, but managed, "Thanks, lads."

Lewis turned to Crandall. "Thanks, mate. You've done what's right here."

Crandall pulled Hathaway to one side. "So how much pressure was there? These two blokes are mates, if I'm not mistaken."

Hathaway looked at the floor. "It was arrest someone, or Lewis would be out. Sacked. No pension, nothing."

"Christ, no wonder you two made the pinch based on nothing. You would do, wouldn't you? She was way out of bounds on this."

"That's not my call, Blair. Just keeping my nose clean."

"It's a waste of man hours. When my guv sees the file on this, she's going to throw a fit."

"As long as she keeps Inspector Lewis out of it. Hey, Blair, thanks a heap for this. You've done a good turn."

Crandall headed out. "Goodnight, gentlemen. Nice working with you."

They called out their thanks and farewells as one.

Hathaway drove them to Lewis's house. He declined an invitation to come in for a drink, feeling it would be a bit intrusive if he did. Lewis stood at the driver's window a moment, smiling quietly.

"Thanks." Volumes were left unsaid.

Hathaway spoke up. "Shall I get Laura to set up a party tomorrow night?" Of the three of them, Laura was the only one with a house big enough for a decent party. "I'd like to meet Mack."

"Yeah, that'd be great. By tomorrow I think I'll be ready for a party." He looked a bit askance at Hathaway. "But you're going to wish by tomorrow night that you hadn't said that about wanting to meet Mack."

After he got home, Hathaway poured himself a scotch and sucked down the whole thing. They had pulled this off, saved both men's hides. He felt unreservedly good about it. Then he called Laura.

"James! I've been waiting to hear. How'd it go?"

"Thumbs up. We need a party."

"Great! I'll get some of the guys from work, too, so there will be some fun people there."

"Hey! We can be fun!"

"Right. We'll say eight but why don't you two come a bit early? Seven?"

"Okay, but it'll be we four. Two of Lewis's old mates are in town."

A moment's pause. "I am _really _behind on what's going on. See you tomorrow!"

* * *


	14. Saturday, week 2

Hathaway arrived at Laura's around a quarter to seven.

"You're early, James. It's unusual for you to come early."

His look acknowledged the double meaning. "I wanted to talk to you before those Geordies got here. Some of what went down does not put Lewis in the best light, depending on how you look at it."

She cocked her head. "Sounds interesting. It's hard to imagine Lewis in anything but the best light."

"Oh, is it? After what he's done with you?"

She rolled her eyes. "We've been over this already. Let's get on with the story here."

Hathaway considered whether to retort. It was pointless, he decided. So he went on and explained everything to Laura, the old partnership between Lewis, Mack, and Danny; what happened with the break-ins; and Lewis's dilemma of helping Danny weighed against the threat by Innocent to sack him and the immorality of disregarding his duty as an officer of the law.

"She was way over the line, but he should have taken himself off the case and just let us struggle with it. I'd be surprised if we would have ever figured it out without his knowledge. He's an accessory, aiding and abetting. Not that there was much of a crime."

He explained the involvement of Mack, too, and how the three Geordies reunited in a team effort.

"No one would stand a chance against that, realistically."

She was quiet for a while. "It's impressive. The dedication to each other, after all the years."

She looked at Hathaway, seeing the somewhat wistful expression on his face:

"You'd appreciate that kind of dedication, wouldn't you?" His eyes snapped to hers, but he said nothing. "If you'd look around you, you'd know you had it."

"James, you and Lewis . . . " she tried another approach. "You've saved each other's lives . . .More than once, even." Finally, she realized that she could say nothing that James did not already know.

"They were mates together when they were young. They've known each other for a long time. You can't expect to feel like one of them on the first day. Maybe not ever."

She gave up trying to improve his mood. "Here. Open the wine." She tossed him the corkscrew and gestured at a rank of bottles on the counter. "Just two or three to start."

By the time Hathaway had finished his assignment, Lewis and his mates had arrived.

"Laura, these are me mates, Danny—" Danny shook her hand "—and Mack."

Mack looked her critically up and down. "So is this the totty who's polishing your knob these days, Robbie?"

Danny and Lewis said it unison: "Mack! Shut up!"

Lewis turned to Hathaway. "I refuse to be embarrassed. Everyone has idiot friends."

"That makes me feel so much better about you, Sir."

"Danny, you've already met my sergeant, James. Mack, James Hathaway."

It wasn't often that Hathaway met someone as tall as he was, and Mack was half again as broad. As they shook hands, it was clear Mack was also taking the measure of James. His grasp was crushing, his hand hard. He had a gap in his teeth just right of center, and his nose looked like it had been broken more than once.

"Right. Hathaway, is it? You're no Geordie."

"I wouldn't pretend to be."

"Oh, aye? What's _that_ supposed to mean, then? Mack drew himself up even taller.

Lewis intervened. "Mack, he's my partner. And all that's gan with it." He was smiling, but his look was steady.

"Whey aye, man. Just testin' his mettle, like. He seems a bit posh for you, Robbie, man. Poncey accent and all." Hathaway handed him a beer as Danny and Lewis went to get more. "Still, you might have potential. I s'pose you've got some fancy schoolin' too. This place, like?"

"Cambridge."

"Oh, aye, I thought so. And some posh public school?"

"Something like that."

"Robbie and me went to the school of hard knocks, like." He made jabbing motions with his fists. "Made wor graft with wor hands." He noticed Hathaway's surprised look.

"Ya divvn't know your guv'nor was a boxer once?"

Hathaway shook his head.

"Hard to imagine now, though. I'll wager you've never seen him land a punch. Well, back in '74, he popped Jake Morrow a right good one, third round. Broke Jake's neck. Almost kilt him. Never jabbed anyone since, as far as I know."

He paused and set his eyes on Hathaway. "Now, me, I've got no problem with it. I'll talk with me fists if that's the fastest way to take care of business, like."

Danny, noticing Mack waving his fists at Hathaway, cut in. "Mack, stop borin' him or threatenin' him, whatever it is you're up to, man. Have another beer." He steered Mack away, tossing a "Sorry, mate" back over his shoulder.

"Not the most likeable fellow." James hadn't heard Laura come up next to him.

"You know, I get the impression he doesn't like me much."

She slid her hand around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder. "That's because you're so hard to like."

Hathaway gave her a squeeze. "Thanks for your support." Then, "I need some fresh air." He removed himself from her arm and went out to the patio, lighting a cigarette. He was the only one outside and he watched the group in the brightly lit room a while. Danny and Lewis were mingling with Laura's medical friends, and Mack stood to one side, watching.

Suddenly, something large blocked his view.

"So, mate, you think you can get your leg over with Laura?"

The man was huge, several inches taller than James and at least three stone heavier. Hathaway had noticed him earlier, thinking how small the wine glass looked in the man's hand.

"Sorry?"

"I saw you putting the moves on her. She's taken, so keep your hands off." He suddenly gripped both of Hathaway's wrists in one hand and shoved him up against the wall. Wrapping the fingers of his other hand around Hathaway's neck, he squeezed a bit. He put his face up close, almost touching, forcing James to inhale his winey fumes.

"Just want to make myself clear here." He squeezed harder. James was struggling to breathe. Stars appeared in his peripheral vision. Everything was getting blurry. His ears roared.

Then he heard a sharp _crack_ and the man was gone. Hathaway staggered and pitched over but strong arms caught him and eased him into a chair.

"Had that lout pegged as trouble the minute he came in." Mack was rubbing the knuckles of his left hand. "Y'alright, lad?"

Hathaway rubbed his throat. "I'll be okay." As he focused on his rescuer, he looked up, questioningly.

"Ah, y'divvn't expect it to be me to step up for you, like. Well, you're Robbie's partner, right? An' I'm Robbie's mate. So that's enough. Divvn't matter what I think about you. It's what partners do."

The big man on the ground began to move, groaning slightly.

"We better get back inside, us." He helped Hathaway up and kept a hand on his elbow until he was sure James was stable.

When Lewis saw the two men come in, Mack rubbing his knuckles, he hurried over, Laura right behind. He looked Hathaway up and down for signs of injury. "Everything okay?"

Mack answered. "Everything's fine, Robbie, man. Only your partner got a great leech stuck on him and we helped him remove it."

Laura groaned. "Sloan. He was _not_ invited."

Lewis looked at Mack, puzzled. "I thought you'd hate Hathaway."

"Oh, aye, I do, like. Well, what he stands for. But that's got nowt to do with the fact that he's a good man." To Mack, this made perfect sense. "Right. Well, I'm gan to get some of that canny bait." He headed for the food.

Lewis shook his head slowly. "There's a man who could really test a partnership."

The party wound down. Laura's friends had all left, including the large man with the large bruise on his chin.

Lewis came up to Hathaway. "Me and the lads are heading home. You need a ride or . . ." He glanced at Laura, cleaning up the plates and glasses.

"I thought I'd stay and help clean up."

"Right. Good idea." His eyes roamed around the room a bit, finally settling on a spot somewhat past James's left shoulder.

He spoke quietly. "I was in over my head, you know. Like you with the Garden. And, um, you stuck by me even when I treated you badly."

"Like you with the Garden." James had to add.

"Yeah, well. It's what partners do."

"That's the second time someone has said that to me tonight."

"We used to say it a lot. Had to sometimes, or we'd forget the team is what matters." He looked Hathaway in the eyes. "Anyway, I know you understand what I'm saying. Thanks for seeing me through this." He shook James's hand with both of his, the turned, motioned for the other two men, and headed for the door.

"Thanks, Laura. Great party!"

Laura put her arm around James. "You want to leave the cleanup for tomorrow?"

He snapped out of his reverie. "No, let's work on it a bit. I'm not ready yet to stop thinking about those three."

But they were far from his mind an hour later when Laura switched off the light and enveloped him with her warmth.

* * *


	15. Epilogue

Lewis came into the office humming on Monday morning.

"You're cheery for a Monday."

"I got me partner back, me job back, me old mates back, and me life back, all in a weekend."

"It's not over yet, Sir. Innocent found out this morning that Danny wasn't charged. Apparently, it's our fault for not getting enough evidence or browbeating him into confessing."

"Well, thanks for ruining my good mood. I won't have one for another six months, you know." He got himself a cup of coffee and sat down.

"Hathaway, Saturday night, the way Mack was acting—"

"It's okay, Sir. I'm sure that's just how he is."

"What I mean is, I think sometimes that's how _I_ am, too. When I say things about the upper class or the rich or the well-educated—prejudiced things—it must not make you feel too good. I came from a pretty rough place and Oxford has not always been kind to me. But I do know it's not all that simple, black and white." He collected his thoughts.

"I'm sorry if I say mean things that touch on you, like. I don't intend to include you in my rants. I'd appreciate it if you'd call me on it when I do, okay?"

"Fair enough, Sir. Thank you." Hathaway was surprised by how much better that made him feel. But then something outside the doorway caught his eye.

"Ohhhh, no."

Assistant Chief Constable Swanson stood there, checking the names on the door.

The two men scrambled to their feet.

"Sir! Detective Inspector Lewis. And this is D.S. Hathaway. Come in. How may we help you, Sir?"

"Gentlemen, I'd like a word with you." He came in and closed the door.

"It's my understanding that the break-in at Stoneleigh Manor remains unresolved. Had a man in custody but he was released due to a lack of evidence. Thus, the case is still open, is that right?"

"Yes, Sir." In unison.

"Well, you will pursue it no further."

He continued. "Gentlemen, there are times when the objectivity of a police officer is challenged by circumstances that arise. A personal connection to a suspect or victim, or an overabundance of sympathy for a particular cause. When this happens, it is assumed that the officer will recognize it and remove himself from the case. Is that so?"

"Yes, Sir." They both felt the ground slipping away beneath them.

"However, there are times when the officer either does not recognize his own bias or recognizes it but declines to remove himself. This is harmful to the case because it could prejudice the outcome or it could divert the officer from a proper perspective of the case, sometimes wasting resources in pursuit of a nonviable trajectory."

Hathaway could see that Lewis was struggling to keep up.

"When an officer does not self-remove from a case, we rely on others to bring it to the attention of his superior officer. This can be intimidating, and I know the instinctive thing to do is to close ranks. But that is not what is best for our efforts as a whole. In fact, there is a _duty_ to report such a conflict to the superior officer."

He looked sternly from one to the other. They were motionless. _We're doomed_.

"You two were improperly pressured to produce results in this case. Influential people should not be allowed to play by different rules, although we all know it happens. I'm certain you felt this, yet you failed to report it to me."

He looked less stern then. "However, I suspect this may be your first encounter with this type of improper behavior from such a high-ranking officer. I myself was surprised to learn of the inordinate demand asked of you, especially, Inspector Lewis. I've known you a long time and I've never known you to act in any other way but by the book. So when I heard of this baseless arrest, I did my own investigation."

"Um, I'm only human, Sir. I make mistakes sometimes."

"Your only mistake in this case was not telling me about your job being threatened. The Federation would have us on our backs in a minute if that went through. Chief Superintendent Innocent has been admonished and will be apologizing to you shortly, Lewis."

He stood up. "Good day, gentlemen." The two men stood up. "Hathaway, good to see you again. You've good a good partner here. Keep your mind open and you'll learn a lot from him."

"I already have."

Swanson opened the door. "Please do not hesitate to inform me if something like this should happen again, though I very much doubt that it will." And out he went.

A slow grin spread across Lewis's face. His eyes met Hathaway's, the relief clear in both of their expressions.

Hathaway smiled broadly. "I hope she apologizes in here so I can watch."

"You'll be there, I promise. She put you through it, too. She owes us both, partner."

Lewis put his arm around his sergeant's shoulders as they walked down the hallway to the Chief Superintendent's office.

* * * * * * *


End file.
